and had a most gracious reception. His Majesty was very much pleased. After saying many most flattering things, he said, “Mr. Strange, I have another favour to ask of you.” Your father was attentive, and his Majesty――“It is that you attend the levee on Wednesday or Friday, that I may confer on you the honour of knighthood.” His Majesty left the room, but, coming quickly back, said, “I am going immediately to St. James’s; if you’ll follow me I’ll do it now; the sooner the better.” So, calling one of the pages, gave him orders to conduct Mr. Strange to St. James’s, where, kneeling down, he rose up SIR ROBERT STRANGE! This honour to our family is, I hope, a very good omen. I hope it will be a spur to our children, and show them to what virtue and industry may bring them. My dear Bob, I hope you will equally share in our virtues as you do in our honours: honours and virtue ought never to part. Few families have ever had a more sure or creditable foundation than ours. May laurels flourish on all your brows!’ [Sidenote: _SIR ROBERT AND LADY STRANGE._] It is a custom to speak in the present day of law and justice being a mere farce, and of a rogue having a better chance than his victim, before a full bench of judges splitting hairs and disagreeing in the interpretation and application of the law. But the ‘handy dandy’ of law and justice was as confusing in the London of the Jacobite times. Cameron, young Matthews the printer, the thoughtless youths who were ‘captains’ in the Manchester regiment, were harmless in what they did, compared with Strange, the young Chevalier’s life-guardsman, and forger of flash notes; but they were hanged and Robin was knighted! Of course, Strange was not knighted for his Jacobite doings, but for his distinction as an artist. One may at least be sorry that the other Jacobites were strangled at Tyburn and on Kennington Common.